When he was Human
by The Band Geek Alchemist
Summary: Prussia's short life as a human, and how he got where he is today. Inspired by this new idea that the characters were once human and lived depressing lives. I've kind of got this new obsession with writing sad feelsy stuff lately. ONESHOT! Thanks for reading!


Hey there, thanks for reading this! :D Haven't written anything (besides essays) in soooo long… School this year was an absolute night mare between mounds of homework, marching band, joining winter colorguard, bullying problems, and relatives in and out of the hospital and multiple relatives passing away. This is the first thing I've written for Hetalia and I really have fun writing sad stuff about Prussia for some reason. :3 This is based on the theory that the countries were all human once and most people think they all died horrible deaths and stuff. Anything with asterisks (*) will be explained at the end. I do not in any way, shape or form own Hetalia. :)

In the early thirteenth centaury, a child was born. One who would face many challenges in life that would lead to a premature death. The boy was born under the name Gilbert Beilschmidt, and would be forced to live a life of loneliness and pain simply because of his appearance.

Late on the night of January 18th he first met the world. His father picked up his beautiful new son in his arms, and rocked him a bit to stop the loud wailing the child was making. The boy's mother had become unconscious from the stress of labor and wouldn't wake up until morning. With the first beams of light, the man awoke to find the child wide awake and staring at him. The man gently brushed the infant's cheek and looked into his eyes. The child's eyes were a vivid red and his hair was a brilliant white. The man gasped in horror and threw the child to the floor. The boy's cries rang out and awoke his mother who looked in horror at the infant. Reluctantly she picked the child up "Markus, what should we do?" she asked.

Her husband remained silent out of the embarrassment they would face for having such a beast. "We should at least name it." She said after a few moments. "What do you think of the name Gilbert?"

"The irony would be rather entertaining." (*) He gruffly mumbled.

Soon Gilbert was old enough to say his first words, unlike most children though he did not coo the usual names like "vati" or "mutti". He preferred to say other things, much to the concern of his parents, like "free" or "fly". From such an early age he longed for freedom. Once he learned to walk, his parents decided they could not take the risk of him venturing outside their small cottage so Markus dug a tiny cellar to keep the child in and kept a locked hatch on it at all times.

If the townspeople found out that they had spawned such a child, both of them would be burned at the stake for witchcraft or an equally taboo practice. Their son would also be killed, but that was not their main concern. They were only worried about maintaining their social standing.

The boy was kept in the dark, damp pit almost his whole, short life with the small exception of an occasional bath or when his parents felt anger. Then they would drag him out to the most secluded corner of their yard and beat him senseless. Blow upon blow they delivered until he would lose consciousness. Gilbert would then be put back in the cellar until the next time he was needed.

One day as he was brought out of the pit, Gilbert wondered if other children his age experienced this, if there were others like him out there. Gilbert had never been outside his home before; he had never known anything besides pain. This led him to question what was happening. "Mutti, are there others like me?"

His parents froze, "Well, not exactly like you, but yes there are other people your age in this village." His mother responded curtly.

"Why haven't I met them before? And what is a village?"

Gilbert's mother brought a tree branch down on her son. "Don't ever ask questions like that again!" she shouted and hit the boy again while her husband fetched a whip. The boy cried out in pain at each blow.

When his father came back, the boy decided to question his father as well. "Vati, why am I not allowed outside the house?" The outraged man stuck Gilbert over and over until the boy felt numb and was taken back to the cellar. That day sparked the idea of freedom in his mind, something he would pursue as long as he lived.

When Gilbert was about ten years old, his father went away to visit a relative, and he was left alone with his mother. She was busy with her needlework, and didn't notice the young boy pick the lock on the cellar door. Gilbert quietly crept out through the small hole and suck past his mother unseen. He hoisted himself onto the windowsill and jumped to the freedom of the outside world. Curious as to whether or not there really were other people like him out there he headed towards a small cluster of buildings in the distance. He was overwhelmed with joy as he took in the sights, sounds, and smells of the place. People were everywhere, the air was filled with laughter, and everyone seemed happy. "Why couldn't I go here before?" he wondered aloud.

Gilbert continued down the street a ways looking in awe at the lively atmosphere and dodging people on horseback or wagons of goods. He eventually came upon an alleyway where some other children his age were playing. "May I join?" he asked politely. The children paused a moment to look at the newcomer.

"Monster!" a little boy shrieked.

"How ugly!" another shouted.

A little girl ran away, crying for her mother.

Gilbert's crimson eyes began to tear up. Why wouldn't they let him join? He just wanted to be their friends.

After hearing the children's shrieks, a passing nun from the local abbey stopped to see what was the matter. "Look at him! He's scary!" a boy shouted and pointed at Gilbert.

He turned to face the old, kind looking nun. "I just wanted to play with them too." He said through his tears.

The woman let out a gasp. "Demon child!" (**)she yelled and kicked him to the ground. "Somebody help me! There's a demon on the loose!" A wall of town's folk soon arrived and surrounded Gilbert. He frantically searched for the children from before, but they were nowhere to be seen.

All Gilbert could see were the glares of the locals pounding into him. All he could feel were the sharp rocks and items being thrown at him. "I never should have left." He said softly to himself.

Soon the rampant crowd was broken up by the town priest bearing a few yards of rope. "So you are in fact a demon child. Don't worry everyone. I will take this monster back to the church to be purified." The rough man tied the young boy's wrists and led him through the town to the chapel. Once inside, Gilbert was led down several flights of stairs to the basement. He was thrown into a cell, but not before the man asked a few questions. "Who are your mother and father?" he asked gruffly.

"Markus and Claudia Beilschmidt. I'm their son, Gilbert." The boy said quietly while looking at the damp floor.

With that Gilbert was left alone in the dark place. He felt safe somehow. It reminded him of the cellar at home, the one place where his vati and muti would leave him alone and wouldn't hurt him. He quickly fell asleep.

A few days later, Gilbert squinted his eyes at the sight of a candle coming down the long set of stairs. The same man that was there before picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Gilbert finally found himself in a bright room with wooden tables. At one of the tables sat his parents. Neither of them looked pleased and Gilbert knew he would be in big trouble when they got home. The priest carried the boy with him to another table and sat down. Gilbert looked around in confusion at all the people who had come to watch.

The young boy felt light headed and couldn't really hear what was being said, but he did catch a few words his parents said. "He is not ours! We only discovered him this morning and turned him out on the streets!" his father said.

"Why on earth would I give birth to such a vile creature?" his mother exclaimed.

Gilbert stood up from his chair and managed to ask through his sobs, "Why do you say that muti? I thought you loved me?" Someone stood behind the blubbering child and hit the back of his head. Gilbert never heard the rest of the conversation before he blacked out.

When he woke up again, he was tied to a wooden cross in the center of the village. Gilbert could make out the children who had ridiculed him the other day. The whole town was gathered around him, throwing whatever they could get their hands on. Insults came by the dozen as Gilbert tried to figure out what was going on. At his feet, he could see a large pile of sticks and brush stacked against the pole. For some reason, the crowd began to cheer even louder as Gilbert saw a priest approaching with a burning torch.

The flaming branch was quickly thrown onto the pile at Gilbert's feet and he could feel heat rising up. He looked down, and to his horror saw flames spreading through the pile of wood and lapping at the base of the pole. Instinctively he tried to draw his feet closer to his chest so they wouldn't burn, but they were tied to the burning pole. Slowly the flames crept higher and higher until a spark caught one of his toes. More pain than the boy had ever felt before shot through his body. The flames soon caught his other foot and traveled upward. Soon the boy was engulfed up to his chest in fire and the only sound heard throughout the countryside was the screams of the small boy. He kept coughing from the smoke, but also from the sickly smell of his own burning flesh. Once the flames had fully consumed the child the town square erupted with cheers. (***)

Gilbert found himself in an unknown place. As far as his eyes could see it was white. There were no windows or doors, and there didn't seem to be a floor either. A deep voice echoed through the room. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, do you know why you are here?"

The boy shook his head.

"You have passed on from the world of the living. You are in the void between life and your final resting place. As you are aware, you have died before your time. While I cannot change what has happened, I can give you a second chance."

"How?" Gilbert asked. He had always thought that once you died, you were dead for good.

"If you choose to take this offer, you will be brought back to Earth. You will look, feel and act the same as before, but you will live forever. You will become the living personification of the Teutonic Order. You do not have to take this offer, but if you choose to decline then you will simply die and pass on to your destination."

He thought for a moment before stating his answer. "I accept your offer sir. Thank you." Another thought occurred to him, "Will I have to see my vati and muti again?" he asked.

"Most likely you will not run into anyone from your past life." The voice answered.

With that, the strange place faded and Gilbert awoke in the middle of a forest. He looked down at his clothes. He was wearing strange white robes with a black cross on the front. He heard a voice shouting at him from behind. "Hey, are you one of us?"

Gilbert turned around to find a strange man wearing the same thing as him. "Where are we?" the boy asked.

"Good, you are with us. Haven't you been conscious this entire trip? Well, maybe not. You don't seem to be in too great of shape." The man gestured at the burns and scrapes covering Gilbert's body. "We're in the middle of moving camps." The man said with a slight scowl. He jumped off his horse and scooped Gilbert up onto the saddle as he took a seat behind the boy. "What's your name kid? You can call me Klaus; I'm in charge of this group."

"G-Gilbert Beilschmidt. Is this the Teutonic Order?"

The man nodded. "Yes, well we're part of it anyway. Why?"

"W-well you see, I don't really understand why, but I was told I am supposed to r-represent you."

"Huh? What do you mean?" the man asked.

"I- I don't know. I was talking with this voice. It told me I would represent the Teutonic order and then I woke up here. I'm sorry sir." Gilbert lowered his head.

Klaus patted the boy's head. "It's okay kid. As soon as we make camp again I'll make sure you get fixed up and rested. We're far from any towns right now, but there is one about a hundred miles from here I can take you to. The battlefield is no place for someone your age."

A few weeks later, the group was passing the town Klaus had talked about. Klaus searched through the crowd of soldiers until he spotted the boy's shining silver hair. "Gilbert!" he shouted.

Gilbert ran towards the man and began walking beside him. "Here's the town I was talking about before. There is a church there that takes children like you in."

The two walked into the town and down many streets before reaching a large brick building. Klaus motioned for Gilbert to follow him to the door before knocking. A kind looking old lady answered.

"Hello madam." Klaus bowed. "I am with the Teutonic Knights and this boy needs someone to look after him. We are unable to safely provide for him right now. Would you mind taking him in?"

She nodded and ushered the two inside. Gilbert was shown around his new home and given new clothes to wear. He was in awe at the spacious building, but when he was shown the room he would be sharing with several other boys, he broke into tears. Klaus awkwardly wrapped an arm around the boy and tried to comfort him. "I-I've never had such a big sleeping place before. My parents just kept me in the cellar." He cried into the man's shoulder.

"Well Gilbert, I'm sorry, but I have to leave now. The troops need me." Klaus said and tried to stand up.

"No!" Gilbert said clinging to the man's legs.

Klaus knelt down again. "Look in a few years, when you're old enough to fight I will come back for you. Okay?" Gilbert nodded and watched his friend leave.

For nearly six years, Gilbert lived in the children's home. Most of the others seemed afraid of him and he never really tried to make any friends. Most of his time was spent doing chores or cleaning around the premises. Gilbert took an instant liking to the work. It gave him a chance to be alone and away from the ridicule of others.

Before he came, he had never understood why people didn't like him. This all changed when he finally asked a boy why he was staring. The boy told Gilbert to look at his reflection the next time he bathed and think about it. Others had remarked the same thing. He just ignored his peers' comments for a while, but his curiosity eventually got the best of him. The next time the boys went to the river to bathe, he looked into the slightly murky water. Gilbert gasped and turned around in shock. His hair and eyes were different from others. His hair was the same pale shade as his skin when all the grime was washed away, and his eyes were bright crimson. From then on, Gilbert avoided looking into the water when they went to the river.

As soon as Gilbert had been brought to the children's home, he had decided to train for when Klaus came back. He had to prove his ability to fight and make his friend happy. During his brief bits of free time when most of the boys would play games, Gilbert would be off in his own area practicing sword skills with a branch he had found or trying to build muscle and be stronger.

Another occurrence in Gilbert's time at the church home was his development of strange fears. Every morning the boys would gather in the chapel for the day's reading. Gilbert usually enjoyed hearing the fascinating stories, but one day they were told to turn to a chapter in the book of Mark. He instantly felt bile rise in his throat, and his head began to spin. The boy's breath came in short gasps. "No!" he screamed. (****)

"Pardon?" The nun asked. He screamed again and ran from the room. "We will look for him later." She sighed and began the reading.

Several hours later, Gilbert was found covered in tears, and curled up in the farthest corner of the vast basement. He had become unconscious and there were small spatters of blood on both the wall and him. Gilbert was quickly taken upstairs to the infirmary.

For the rest of his stay, Gilbert was told when they would read from Mark and was excused to his room. No one wanted a repeat of the first incident. There he would sit on his bed and try to fight the dizziness and rationalize this new fear. Neither he, nor any of the nuns at the home were able to figure it out. Gilbert finally decided it must be something from his past life, but that didn't make him feel any better about the word.

He also developed an intense fear of fire. (*****)Whether it was safely contained or not, he would have a panic attack similar to the one previously mentioned at the sight of it. Once winter set in, the fireplaces were used to heat the rooms. Along with it came another chore. Two boys each day would be in charge of keeping the fires going and bringing in wood. He was usually assigned to this at least once each week with no way of getting out of it. During the first few times he was assigned the task, he was found unconscious. Soon, another boy was made to accompany Gilbert during the chore. Then he would remain conscious but would often cough up blood while working. The boy eventually developed a strategy of closing his eyes and quickly tossing a log on and sneaking a small peak to move the logs around. Whenever he felt dizzy, he would close his eyes and take a few steps back. Gilbert had also been moved to a room that didn't have a fireplace for the winter season. He was always cold and getting sick, but it was better than being in constant fear.

On the morning of his sixteenth birthday, Gilbert was called away from his work early, and told to go to the front gate. He quickly ran to the gates and was greeted with a slightly older, but still familiar face of Klaus. "You did come back!" Gilbert exclaimed and despite being too old for it, ran to embrace the man.

"My, how you've grown."Klaus remarked. Gilbert was as tall as the man now. "Well, would you like to join us again? You're old enough to fight by the military laws now."

Gilbert gratefully accepted the offer and stayed with the army throughout the age of the Teutonic Order and when it was slowly morphed into the Kingdom of Prussia, he continued his service. He became an assistant to the many leaders of the nation until the dissolution of his country.

It was during those many years serving the rulers that Gilbert discovered he had a biological brother who had also been given a second chance. After he had been burned in his first life, his parents had been let free, but lost all dignity and social standing they once had, and had another son. He had grown up with a fairly normal childhood, but he had once decided to ask his parents about the brother he was rumored to have. His parents, furious with the memory of the son that took their pride away, beat the boy and left him out in the rain to die. Gilbert was called by his boss to take care the younger boy to the neighboring nation. The boy had talked with Gilbert and they realized they were actually related in their past lives. That day, Gilbert swore to protect his only brother and stick with him no matter what the consequences.

When he and Germany's personification were joined to represent one nation, he began to represent the region of East Germany. After several traumatic decades under the control of the Russian personification, he returned to staying with his brother. Nearly thirty years later, he decided that he was tired of not being an official nation anymore. With the help of his friend, the personification of Canada, he managed to create a new nation to represent, the Micronation of New Prussia. (******)

Explanation of Noted Parts

(*) Gilbert in Old German/modern German means "bright/shining pledge" his parent's thought negatively of him because of his appearance

(**) Because of Prussia's abnormal appearance, the lack of scientific knowledge about human pigmentation, and because most societies back then were completely based off of religion and used it to explain things

(***) Burning someone at the stake seems to be a common punishment for suspected demons, witches ect.

(****) On Prussia's page of the Hetalia kitawiki site, it mentions he has a fear of the word "mark" or anything that sounds similar, hence the name of his father who is probably the root of this fear

(*****) After being slowly burned to death and then coming back to life, who wouldn't be afraid of fire?

(******) There is now a micronation of Prussia in Canada. **Proof of PruCan**. Also, MICRONATIONS RULE! :D

Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy Prussia's misery as much as I did, because there is more to come. I warn you though, it probably will be M rated for violence and Russia going into psychotic evil mode. :)


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